


all your sweet little lies

by aminami



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Manipulation, P5R Spoilers, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, akira's trying to cope, bad sense of humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 14:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminami/pseuds/aminami
Summary: Akira never expected he would end up having a soulmate. He never expected to fall in love with his would-be murderer, and even with his expectations already so low, he never realized that having a soulmate would turn out to be nothing but a heavy chain around his neck, dragging him towards the bottom.But most of all, he never imagined that having a soulmate would turn out to be so painfully lonely.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Background Ann/Shiho
Comments: 8
Kudos: 105





	all your sweet little lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jazzily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzily/gifts).



> a gift exchange for the lovely [jazlyn](https://twitter.com/jazlyn_jin)! i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> \- small warning for the brief mention of the rooftop scene with shiho, please be careful once you get to ann's story if you feel like it may trigger you!

_November_

* * *

“I guess everything is settled then,” Makoto sighs in relief. “Everyone knows what they’re supposed to be doing, right?”

One of the girls says something in reply and the discussion continues, but Akira barely pays them any mind. He’s vaguely aware of the pain from digging his fingernails into the inside of his palms, and yet no matter how much he tries to relax, he’s unable to unclench his fists. He tries to focus on something, anything else other than the feeling that’s been eating him from the inside for the past few days. He tries with simple things—the birds chirping outside the window, the sad plant that still needs watering, the little specks of dust suspended in the sunlight, the sound of Yusuke’s pencil scratching against the paper.

All these things he won’t be able to experience again. Because a few days from now, Akechi is going to—

“Akira,” Haru touches his arm gently to pull him out of his reverie. “You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time. Are you quite alright?”

No, he is not alright. Akira spent all this time reworking the plan in his head, desperately looking for a way out. It’s a thief’s instinct if anything, but all this time Akira didn’t actually suspect he’ll have to fight for his own survival. Generally speaking, Akira considers himself someone who doesn’t lose his cool easily—someone who, against all odds, manages to weasel his way out of the most grim of circumstances. That’s why after spending the last few nights tossing and turning in cold sweat, there’s no doubt in his mind—there isn’t a way out of this.

The longer he tries to hide it from his friends, the more painful it will get. “This won’t work,” Akira hears his own calm voice. He is their reliable leader, after all. “Akechi will realize I didn’t actually die.”

For a second, no one seems to know the appropriate way to react. They’ve spent weeks coming up with the perfect plan, and so far Akira’s never expressed his doubts. On the other hand, he imagines ‘ _What do you mean you don’t want to get arrested and possibly violently beaten up for our sake?’_ might not be the most thoughtful thing to say to a friend. “Akira,” Makoto says in a tone that’s supposed to be gentle and persuasive, like she’s talking to a stubborn child. “I know you’re nervous, and I’d rather we didn’t have to use you like this, but we agreed that this is our best shot and—”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Akira finally manages to unclench his fists, and settles on putting his hands in his pockets instead. “It’s not about me being afraid. I’m saying it’s literally _impossible_ for him not to know I’m still alive.”

Morgana brushes against his legs to give him courage. He’s likely the only person who even noticed something had to be wrong, considering they live together. Even if Akira assured him everything was fine, he could still sense his keen eyes watching Akira’s nervous pacing every night.

“What are you saying?” Yusuke asks, dropping his pencil on the floor. He pays it no mind, wide eyes fixed on Akira. “How can you be so sure?”

Akira takes a deep breath—in all honesty, he should have told them from the beginning, rather than keeping it his dirty secret. In the end, having a secret that only he and Akechi shared was almost _thrilling_. Akira knew from the beginning, didn’t he? The moment they shook hands, the moment Akechi first said his name. He knew it deep down, and yet, he chose to ignore it hoping for a better outcome.

With more courage than he knew he’d ever need, he pulls his right hand out of his pocket to bare his wrist. “Because Akechi is my soulmate.”

* * *

“This is delicious,” Akechi smiles sweetly, biting at the cookie brought by the waitress—’ _On the house’_ , she stammers before running away when Akechi sends her his trademark girl-magazine-cover wink. The edge of his mouth moves upwards, then downwards, and then upwards again. Akira’s watched it so many times that he could probably become a teenage superstar just by using Akechi’s tricks. Well, he _could,_ but unlike Akechi he’s a rotten delinquent with a criminal record, and apparently, that doesn’t count as a desirable bad-boy image capable of bringing teenage girls to their knees.

Even after all this time, Akira often finds himself observing Akechi with utmost fascination. It’s gotten to the point of obsession—he observes every gesture, listens to every word he says whenever he catches Akechi on TV. He finds it surprisingly easy to discern the truth from a lie, even if Akechi chooses to maintain his silly theatrics even when they’re alone together.

It might be wishful thinking on Akira’s part, but he firmly believes that the things Akechi tells him during their hangouts are mostly true. Whenever they talk, Akira’s careful to choose the topic, fishing for every little piece of information he might possibly find. Most of the time, it’s like throwing a stone into a body of water to watch the circular pattern slowly make its way outwards, resonating with lies and deceit towards anyone in sight. That’s why Akira keeps his eyes fixed on the center—waiting ever so patiently for the mask to crack.

“Kurusu,” Akechi says all of a sudden. He uses that specific innocent tone, the one that informs Akira that there’s more to his words than he’s letting on. “What’s your opinion on soulmates?”

Akira freezes at that—it’s not a question he ever expected from Akechi out of all people. Akechi’s eyes are playful and surprisingly honest, and he looks up at Akira with his head cocked slightly to the side, undoubtedly enjoying every second of Akira squirming under his gaze.

“I’m—huh,” he says eloquently.

Akira’s opinion on soulmates is that he’s never had one to begin with. That’s why after they part for the day, with Akechi getting an urgent call about some investigation, Akira decides to conduct some research on his own.

_____

**It’s possible to break a bond with your soulmate as long as you mean it.**

_____

“Mah pawents weh sowlmades, y’know,” Ryuji says with his mouth full of ramen noodles. He punches his chest a few times, grabbing Akira’s glass of water to make it easier to swallow. “But they kinda split.”

“Chew before you swallow,” Morgana warns from Akira’s bag. “And don’t talk with your mouth full!”

Akira shushes him when the cook starts looking around for the source of what must sound like desperate meowing. Eventually, he gives up with a shrug and Akira lets out a relieved sigh, giving Mona an apologetic pat through the bag. He knows how much Mona hates being stuffed in there. “How does that work?” he asks once he’s sure no one can hear them. “Isn’t it supposed to be painful?”

“Yeah,” Ryuji says like he doesn’t care, but Akira doesn’t miss the way his grip on his chopsticks tightens. “From what I know, the one who does the breaking usually suffers. In this case, it would be my old man. Not that I care if he suffered or not. Serves him right for leaving us.”

Akira can’t help but agree. He never expected to feel so much resentment towards someone he’s never even met. Even if Akira considers himself Ryuji’s closest friend, Ryuji rarely talks about his father. Perhaps he decided to completely write him off his life. It’s likely why Ryuji never asked Futaba to track his father down, even if they could change his heart. Akira cannot help but think that some vile hearts are better off unchanged. With that in mind, he ignores the nagging feeling of guilt that tells him to drop the subject, and decides to ask, “If it’s so painful, why do you think people break their bonds?”

Ryuji shrugs, his attention fully back on the bowl of ramen. “Dunno man, it doesn’t happen often. Hell, how many soulmates have you seen around these days? It’s like—you don’t automatically fall in love with your soulmate, y’know. Some people don’t want to be chained to the same person for the rest of their lives.”

 _Everyone should have the freedom to choose,_ Akira thinks to himself later. But when he recalls Ryuji’s pained expression, he cannot help but think that it’s never easy when other people get caught in the crossfire.

_____

**Soulmates are as rare as they are inexplicable.**

_____

“Hey, Akira,” Morgana asks. “If having a soulmate is so painful, why does it still happen to people? Shouldn’t it just disappear like all the other unnecessary things humans don’t need?”

“It’s rare nowadays,” Akira explains, barely looking up from his homework. “And it isn’t _always_ painful. If your feelings are reciprocated, it’s supposed to make you the happiest person on Earth.”

Or so says the poster of the new TV Tokyo drama series that Ann made him watch last month. ‘ _Totally boring’_ , he texted Ryuji afterwards, but the fact that he continued watching it on his phone in an incognito tab was a secret that no one but Morgana—and likely Futaba— had to know about.

“This doesn’t sound right,” Morgana slams his tail on the mattress in annoyance. “Lady Ann isn’t my soulmate, and she still makes me the happiest _man_ on Earth.”

“And that’s all that counts,” Akira smirks under his nose. “But you and I both know that you don’t stand a chance, buddy. Ann already has a soulmate.”

Morgana jumps then, right on the desk, sending Akira’s notes flying across the room. After carefully calculating all the possible risks of pissing off someone who has claws, Akira decides not to call it typical cat behavior. Instead, he puts down his pencil and checks the time on his phone—it’s surprisingly late and Morgana still hasn’t told him to go to bed. _Which means_ he wants to talk. _Which means_ there’s something bothering him. _Which means_ that now it’s Akira’s problem too.

Surely enough, it doesn’t take long for Morgana to continue the conversation. For a moment, he watches Akira from his place on the desk like a benevolent ruler looking upon his servant, when Akira picks up the scattered papers off the floor, and Akira cannot help but think that it’s just a metaphor for the rest of his life—then again, like every cat owner, he pretty much came to terms with his lowly place in the household hierarchy.

Morgana waits until Akira sits down again before he breaks the silence. “Say Akira,” he begins with some hesitance. “Do you think I’m missing out?”

“On having homework?” Akira decides to play dumb and Morgana slaps him with his tail as punishment. “Fine, fine, no need to get pissy again.”

He spins a pen between his fingers just to give himself some time to come up with a suitable reply. “Personally, I don’t think you’re missing out,” he decides eventually. “Most people never manage to find their soulmates and they’re still happy. Loving someone is far more important than being tied to them for the rest of your life, don’t you think?”

Morgana seems to be pleased with the answer, bumping his head into Akira’s hand as an apology for earlier violence. He even graciously lets Akira pet his ears, and in return, Akira politely doesn’t call him out on the silent purr that escapes his throat. “What about you then?” Morgana asks once he’s satisfied. “Would you like to have a soulmate?”

“Sure,” Akira snorts, unable to hide the slightly skeptical undertone out of his voice. The idea of finding one seemed about as probable as waking up tomorrow to Sojiro announcing that he decided to turn Leblanc into a karaoke place. “Why not? As long as they make me happy.”

“What if they don’t?” asks Morgana then.

Akira leans back in his chair, stretching slowly until his bones give out a satisfying _crack_. “It could still be interesting,” he says eventually, after actually considering it. “I heard that every pair of soulmates shares a different experience once they find each other. It sounds fun—trying new things, and all that.”

Akira noticed some time ago that Morgana’s been going through what Haru likes to affectionately call a _four-year-old discovering_ _the world_ phase, which means that every answer Akira gives simply results in another question emerging shortly after. “What kind of experience?” Morgana asks, unsurprisingly.

“Something about the emotional connection,” Akira yawns, feeling like the only soulmate he needs right now is the stack of cardboard boxes that make up his bed. His phone buzzes with a message from Ryuji starting with _Dude, you’re totally not gonna believe this_ , which usually means Akira is _totally_ going to believe this, so it might as well wait until morning. “It’s unique to every couple. It’s supposed to be very intimate, that’s why you won’t find many accounts of people sharing it, unless their soulmate is already dead. Most of it is super boring anyway—that supernatural soulmate stuff only happens in the movies.”

“I wonder what happens if—” Morgana looks at the phone in Akira’s hand. “Is it really so late? What are you doing up? You should hurry up and go to bed unless you want to fall asleep in class again! You’re not turning into Ryuji on my watch!”

 _You’re the one who kept me up_ , Akira thinks bitterly rather than voicing his complaint, but he’s never won a battle against Morgana’s logic before, and he’s not about to try his luck again—not with the prospect of the warm bed already so close. Akira changes into his pajamas and sneaks under the covers, the earlier sleepiness engulfing him like a warm blanket. Soon, he feels the familiar weight settle somewhere near his legs as Morgana finally decides on the most comfortable spot.

“It must be painful,” Akira hears him say right before he’s about to drift off. “To lose your soulmate.”

Since then, he often catches Morgana intently observing his front paws—Akira dutifully averts his gaze every time.

_____

**When your soulmate dies, you feel every second of it.**

_____

“Do you think he might find a soulmate if we bring him into a cat café?” Ann asks when Akira tells her about his earlier conversation with Morgana. They’re visiting Ann’s favorite place serving cakes so sweet that he could easily murder Goro Akechi just by getting him through the doorstep. Akira doesn’t buy his I _love sweets_ image, no matter how intently the teen magazines he borrows from Ann—for research purposes, of course—try to convince him. That’s why he always forgets to add sugar to Goro’s coffee whenever he visits Leblanc.

“Please don’t say that in front of him,” Akira frowns once they pick a table by the window. Everyone stares at them, or rather, stares at Ann who looks really nice in her pink dress and a new hairstyle. She’s not wearing perfume, which likely means she’s going to go visit Shiho in the hospital after this.

“I don’t understand his sudden obsession with soulmates,” Ann says pensively. “It’s not like it’s such a big deal. Do you have any idea what it’s about?”

Akira is a good wingman. He really is. “No clue,” he says solemnly. “He’s just really happy for you. We all are.”

“You know how in the movies people keep bragging about their soulmate marks?” Ann plays with the end of her ponytail. “I always thought it was in bad taste.”

In translation: _I’m dying to show it off, please ask me_.

Akira loves Ann. He makes a mental note to take her out to the movies the next time he spots the local cinema playing a soulmate rom-com—or maybe even turn it into a movie night if they find the time.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he says with playful disappointment. “Here I was, hoping I’d finally get to see one.”

“Okay, fine,” Ann happily jumps in her chair, already pulling up her sleeve. “Special viewing! Just for my favorite person!”

Akira cannot help but think that it’s very elegant—it reminds Akira of two pairs of butterfly wings, mirroring each other from both sides of Ann’s wrist. He tells her as much and she brightens up at the comment. “Right? I said so too, the moment we got them! I told her that...that I want these wings to symbolize our freedom to be who we want to be. Who she...deserves to be.”

So to some people, having a soulmate means freedom. It’s a comforting thought, and Akira easily finds Ann’s enthusiasm to be contagious. “What is it like?” Akira grins. “Having a soulmate?”

“Oh you know,” Ann suddenly focuses on her straw. “It’s a lot at first. And I mean— _a lot._ But once you get used to it, it’s...I can’t even describe it. She’s my whole world, you know?”

Her voice cracks right at the last syllable, and somehow Akira finds himself thinking that it wasn’t just about Ann suddenly feeling emotional over the fresh bond. Akira watches Ann stab her cake with a fork for a moment before finally asking. “What’s wrong then?”

“Nothing’s really wrong,” she shakes her head. “It’s just...with everything that’s happened—I don’t know.”

Akira lets her gather her thoughts in peace, and wonders what’s the best way to lift up her spirits. Eventually, he picks the strawberry off his cupcake and places it on Ann's plate with a small grin. She rolls her eyes, mumbles something about not being a child, but accepts the offering.

“Not all people get their marks immediately,” Ann says, rolling the strawberry under her fingertip. “Even so, I just knew that Shiho was my soulmate right from the beginning. It happened so quickly, exactly the way it does in the movies. I saw her and then _—bam_! I was gone!”

Ann smiles at the memory before continuing. “I think she knew right from the beginning too, but we tiptoed around the subject for the longest time. And then...Kamoshida happened, and she started slipping through my fingers. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that.”

At the smallest quiver of her lip, Akira laces their fingers together. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“No,” Ann shakes her head but she squeezes Akira’s hand tighter. “It’s not talking about it that almost made me lose her then, and I won’t make the same mistake twice. And then you showed up, and you reached out to me—do you remember that day? You just listened to me talk, and you made me smile for the first time in ages. I trust you more than anyone. And I suppose, I...I really want to get it off my chest.”

“That day on the roof,” Ann says eventually. “Shiho almost died. And what I didn’t tell her, what I didn’t tell anyone was that... I…I felt it. I felt her slipping away. And it _hurt_. I spent my whole life watching stupid movies, reading novels, and they always make everything sound so romantic, you know? So I guess I always assumed they were just being metaphorical about some things, especially the part about what happens when your soulmate gets hurt. But it was just that—pure pain. It was almost like..like I was dying with her. It didn’t last long, but that feeling of despair, the fear of losing her—that’s when I knew I couldn’t let her go again. That’s when our marks appeared.”

Ann’s openly crying now, so Akira moves their bags around to obstruct them from view, situating himself so that his silhouette protects Ann from any prying eyes. “You should tell her,” he says quietly. “Maybe not now. But you shouldn’t hide something this big from her.”

“I know,” Ann wipes away the few tears that managed to escape with her sleeve. Akira pulls out a tissue from his bag, suddenly grateful that Morgana decided to spend the day with Haru. Judging from Ann’s expression, she must be thinking the same thing. “Thank you for listening, and I promise, I _will_ tell her eventually. But I just…after everything she’s been through, I want her to be happy. She doesn’t have to share my pain, so I try to keep my feelings in check when I’m around her.”

“Share your pain?” Akira repeats, raising his eyebrows at the choice of words. “You mean— _literally_?”

“Oh, um,” Ann’s cheeks gain a slight tint of red. “It’s not the same for everyone. Some soulmates are more compatible than others. It definitely helps that we were in love before our marks really showed. But I guess call it, uh—soulmate ESP?”

“So you can read each other’s minds?” Akira asks. “Sounds spooky.”

“Not exactly,” Ann laughs through the tears. “It’s more like...we can affect each other’s moods. If I’m nervous, she calms me down. If she’s sad, I can cheer her up. It’s not permanent, it’s like sending good vibes, I suppose? But it’s nice.”

Akira's face must be skeptical because Ann immediately elaborates. “I know it sounds like mind control or something! It’s more like—suddenly, you have this comforting feeling that someone really wants to spend the rest of their life making you happy. And I can tell you that...it’s the best feeling in the world.”

“So it’s not part of your—” Akira hesitates. “Special soulmate thing, right?”

Ann boops his nose playfully. “Nope! That’s a secret!”

_____

**Soulmates, in fact, are just another form of slavery.**

_____

“—don’t you agree, Kurusu?” Akechi moves his piece across the board, a finger tapping pensively at his lower-lip. It’s not like Akechi even needs this much effort to think. Akira’s hardly the most experienced player, and so far he didn’t manage to beat Akechi once. Fixating on the gesture, Akira has no doubt in his mind—the only reason Akechi’s doing it in the first place is that he knows much it distracts his already weak opponent. Akira decides to focus on his ugly argyle sweater instead.

“You seem very interested in soulmates,” Akira finishes his turn and from Akechi’s satisfied expression, he assumes he must have made the worst possible move. Soon enough, Akechi has his king in check, and despite Akira’s persistent, if not slightly desperate struggles, he’s not able to stall the inevitable loss for long. Only once they shake hands after Akechi’s checkmate, Akechi returns to their conversation.

“It is a fascinating topic,” Akechi says and unless Akira’s imagining things, there’s a slight strain to his voice that wasn’t there before. “The existence of soulmates hardly gives us an upper hand over other species. Biologically speaking, it seems rather disadvantageous. After all, having offspring with multiple partners increases the probability of giving birth to a strong individual. So why would you decide to chain yourself to a single partner for the rest of your life?”

Sometimes Akira wishes that talking to Akechi relied more on doing dumb teen shit and less on walking through a philosophical minefield with Akechi’s eyes keenly watching his every step, and yet, he can’t help it—he loves his pretentious, pompous speech, and often can’t help but respond in kind. Still, he’s hardly in the mood to discuss the intricacies of human biology with Sojiro staring at them suspiciously from behind the counter.

“It’s not like it’s just a soulmate thing,” Akira says, carefully weighing his words. “Some people really do choose to spend their lives together. I don’t think everything has to be determined through its purpose or utility. No matter how rational you might be, you have to admit that love doesn’t make sense but it does exist. Other than its use in nurturing, it doesn’t seem to be very useful, does it? In fact, sometimes loving someone might decrease your chances of survival.”

“Indeed,” Akechi seems oddly pleased with Akira’s choice of words. “Love really is the most dangerous weapon we possess as human beings.”

“Weapon?” Akira repeats, feeling like he lacks about ten years of knowledge and experience to keep up with the conversation. “Is that the way you talk about romance in those teen magazines of yours?”

Akira knows for a fact that he doesn’t. But that’s a secret he doesn’t have to share. With delight, he observes a slight flush rising to Akechi’s cheeks, his natural response to being caught on a lie—right along with the nervous laughter, and Akira’s personal favorite, the slight click of his tongue like he’s trying to withhold a swear word.

Akira would be happy to force them out of Akechi’s mouth by whatever means necessary, but so far he’s been unsuccessful in his endeavours.

“Romance,” Akechi says after collecting himself. “Has never been my area of expertise.”

That day, Akira realizes that he’d give anything in his possession to change that.

_____

**Soulmate marks may appear unexpectedly.**

_____

“I’m going to be entirely honest with you,” Akechi says. “I hate you.”

Well, there go his teenage fantasies of the two of them running off towards the sunset. To be fair, that image should have already been ruined when Akira found out that Akechi plans to murder him. Instead, he simply edits out some details—for example, Akechi holding a shotgun rather than his hand, but hey, first love is hardly ever easy.

Admittedly, his brain short-circuits at Akechi’s confession, so he barely pays attention to whatever expression of his undying hatred Akechi’s trying to convey. Instead, he focuses on the way Akechi’s lips move around big words and invectives, feeling like he’s even more in love with him after almost getting his ass kicked in Mementos. In Akira’s defense, Akechi looks very enticing when holding a sword in his hand.

A glove slaps him in the face. Akechi’s glove. A glove that he wears every day. A glove that touches Akechi’s skin, that now, due to Akechi’s endearingly theatrical definition of rivalry, belongs to Akira. It makes something flip in his stomach, but Akira decides to leave the implication of that feeling for later.

That’s when something catches his eye, and at that moment, his whole world stops.

Akechi’s hand, the one that’s still wearing a glove, pointing towards Akira as he continues his monologue, has a small, black mark that Akira can barely make out from where he’s standing, but there’s no doubt in his mind—it’s a soulmate mark.

He looks away, trying to be casual about the way he shoves his own hands down his pockets, along with Akechi’s glove. It doesn’t seem like Akechi’s noticed, too focused on his speech that he undoubtedly practiced in front of a mirror before inviting Akira here.

Akira tries to calmly analyze all the possible clues. There’s no way for him to check his own wrist without Akechi noticing, but he’s fairly sure the mark wasn’t there when they were entering Mementos on either of their wrists. And the only person in Akechi’s vicinity since then is Akira. Which means—

As Akira’s brain spirals into a constant repetition of _fuck, fuck_ , _fuck_ , Akechi finally seems to notice that something is wrong. “Kurusu,” Akechi is saying with a worried expression. “Are you quite alright?”

“It’s just,” Akira takes a deep breath, remembering what Ann said about soulmate ESP. “It’s a lot to, uh—take in. I never expected you resented me this much.”

“Oh,” Akechi says as if he expected to hear something else. “Well, in any case. It shouldn’t in any way interfere with our mission. Please know that this won’t affect the terms of our...cooperation. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I still have some work to do. Don’t hesitate to call me when it’s time for the next infiltration.”

‘ _No_ ’, Akira thinks coldly. ‘ _Surely, it doesn’t interfere with **your** mission_.’

Unable to trust his voice, Akira nods, only letting the panic settle back in once Akechi is out of sight. With shaking hands, he shoves his sleeve out of the way, and right there, on his right wrist, he finds the mark that undoubtedly mirrors the one he saw on Akechi’s wrist.

It’s small enough that he should be able to cover it up if necessary, the elaborate lines dancing around his veins like they’re trying to crush them in a tight grip.

Their mark looks like a chain. How very subtle.

Since then, Akira often sneaks off to the bathroom to stare at the mark on his wrist. It never fades, and no matter how much Akira wishes for it to disappear, it stubbornly stays there, imprinted into his skin. He expects to feel different, but none of the things Ann mentioned ever happen. There’s no magic, no unique experience, no love and affection, other than the pathetic feelings he’s been harboring within for some time now. To his disappointment, Akechi never contacts him, and during their time in the Metaverse he acts the same way he always does, barely sparing Akira a second glance beyond the exchanges necessary for their mission.

If anything changes at all, Akira notices that the gloves Akechi wears now are slightly longer, covering up the mark perfectly. Which means he’s determined to ignore their soulmate bond, and he has no intention of breaking it—why would he, when it only helps his plan? Which means that using ‘love as a weapon’, he’s still going to kill Akira a few days from now, except now he’s going to be able to see through Akira’s deceit.

Akira never expected he would end up having a soulmate. He never expected to fall in love with his would-be murderer, and even with his expectations already so low, he never realized that having a soulmate would turn out to be nothing but a heavy chain around his neck, dragging him towards the bottom.

But most of all, he never imagined that having a soulmate would turn out to be so painfully lonely.

**Author's Note:**

> \- i should probably say that this is my first time writing a soulmate au, and i have no experience with the trope whatsoever, having read maybe two soulmate fics in my entire life. that's why forgive me if my ideas are extremely tired!  
> \- i feel like there's a lot of humor in this chapter, so fair warning—chapter 2 is all about angst, but i think you can totally see it coming since you-know-what happens  
> \- i swear sumi is alive and well in this fic, and she does show up in the next chapter  
> \- thank you all for reading, and stay tuned for chapter 2! it should be out in a few days once i'm done editing!  
> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/akihmorn)


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